Remind Yourself This is How it's Going to Be
by sartiebodyshots
Summary: Sam and Artie are two people waiting for their other halves to show up and decide to date each other to help them pass the time. It's simple and it's easy, until it isn't.
1. Prologue

"It'll be easy, Artie," Sam said, reaching out his hand, "We can hang out together and go on a few dates until we find our soulmates. I really like you already; it'll be great!"

Artie knew that they'd both show up eventually. Everyone had a soulmate, their other half that they were destined to be with. The world exploded into bright color once two halves met. From what he understood, color was an amazing thing, but people only could see it once they found their soulmate. Once the world was in color, everyone could have their happy endings.

But people were people, and they needed a chance to develop their relationship skills. So they still dated around (really, it was an excuse to have sex and have some nice meals out more than anything else) until that fateful moment occurred. After that, they could break up cleanly and easily.

It was easy. It was simple. Sam was already his close friend, and he was certainly dateable on so many levels.

Grinning, Artie grabbed Sam's hand and squeezed. "I don't think you've ever had a better idea."

"Good," Sam said, face lighting up. "To celebrate, I'm taking you out on Friday. Someplace nice, my treat. Our first real date."

Artie smiled even wider. "I seriously can't wait."


	2. First Date

That Friday, Sam showed up at Artie's apartment right at seven. He was dressed up in suit and tie, and suddenly Artie felt very underdressed in his nice sweater and khakis.

"You look great!" Sam exclaimed. "You look so good in blue."

"Thank you, Sam," he said softly. Despite feeling like Sam had outdone him, Artie felt a rush of happiness. "You've certainly cleaned up," he teased.

"Now that I'm dating an up and coming directing superstar, I've got to clean up my look," Sam said. "Seriously, how else am I going to convince you to take me to all the cool parties when you become famous?"

"I'm sure you'd find a way," Artie said. "You've always been very persuasive."

Sam smiled and checked his phone. "Oops, as much as I'd like to work on my persuasion, we've got to get going. We've got reservations, and I don't want us to miss out."

Artie followed him down to the street, and was about to head down to the usual subway stop, when Sam poked his shoulder. "Not that way," he said, pointing at where a taxi was waiting, "We're going in style. Or at least as stylish as I can get."

"Damn, you sure know how to impress a guy," Artie said. Taxis were way too expensive to take that often, and as much as he loved taking the subway, it was always nice to feel a little luxurious. Sam opened the door for him and Artie transferred into the cab. Artie collapsed his chair.

"Do you want me to put your wheelchair in the trunk or do you want to keep it up here with you?" Sam asked.

"The trunk is good," Artie said. "Thank you, Sam."

"No problem," Sam said, flashing him a grin.

Once Artie's wheelchair was safely stowed, Sam came around to sit next to him. He gave the driver the address, and once the cab was moving, his leg started bouncing up and down. Artie looked over at him with a raised eyebrow; Sam didn't normally do that.

"Sorry," Sam said sheepishly, "Nerves."

"Because of our date?" Artie asked. When Sam nodded, Artie nudged him gently with his shoulder. "You don't have to be nervous. It's me."

"Exactly," Sam said. "Don't wanna mess this up."

Artie didn't really understand. How could Sam think he was ever going to mess their friendship up? But instead of arguing or trying to console him, he just reached over to hold Sam's hand and squeezed gently. Sam stopped bouncing and smiled at him. Artie smiled back, confused about the flip flop feeling in his stomach.

By the time they reached the restaurant, Sam had calmed down completely. Their date felt subtly different from other times when they had hung out. As always, they laughed and had enjoyed each other's company. There was something different, though, and Artie couldn't put his finger on it until they were back in the cab together after dinner.

Sam was touching him more than usual. They had always had a physical friendship. They high fived, they fist bumped, they hugged (and one memorable time Sam had lifted him into the air). But this time, it was subtler. Sam had kept touching his arm when they were talking, and now that they were in the cab, Sam had his arm around him so they could be closer. It was different from his other relationships somehow… but it was nice, Artie decided.

"Thank you for asking me out," Artie said when they neared his apartment. He rested his hand on Sam's shoulder. "It was such a nice night."

"Does that mean that I could interest you in a second date?" Sam asked him.

Artie looked up at him, pretending to think it over before nodding. "You definitely can."

On impulse, Artie reached up and pressed his lips against Sam's cheek when they reached his apartment. It was a quick thank you for a nice night out. Maybe it was a little forward, but he and Sam knew each other well after all, and it had been a wonderful night.

Sam looked surprised, but then smiled back, about to say something when the cab stopped. He just shrugged sheepishly and then got out to get Artie's wheelchair out of the trunk. Once Artie was resting on the sidewalk, Sam squeezed his hand quickly. "Next week, okay? Saturday. There's a cool exhibition in town that I think you'll love."

"What is it?" Artie asked, already excited.

Sam grinned and shook his head. "Nope, it's gonna be a surprise."

Artie groaned. "Not even a hint?"

"Nope," Sam said, leaning down to kiss his cheek quickly. "Not even a hint."

Artie pretended to pout, even though he was secretly very pleased with the kiss. "You're lucky you're cute," he said.

He just barely caught the way that Sam's eyes flickered unhappily, but before Artie could ask what was wrong (if there even was anything wrong), Sam waved and got back in the cab. "See you next week," Sam said. Since he still sounded happy, Artie assumed it was a trick of the light.

Artie waved as the cab pulled away, humming to himself as he rolled into his apartment. God, he felt light and warm, and he was anticipating next week already. He wasn't the kind of man who liked to rush through his weeks- he appreciated each day as it came- but he wanted it to be Saturday so bad. As the week wore on (Artie was pretty sure it was the longest week of his life), he only grew more and more excited. Until he got a phone call Friday morning.

"Artie Abrams!" he answered his phone.

"Hey, Artie. It's Sam," the other voice said. Honestly, it was a good thing he had introduced himself because Artie wouldn't have recognized his voice because Sam didn't sound like he usually did.

"Sam? Are you okay?" Artie asked, concerned.

"Not really. I've come down with the flu," Sam coughed a few times, leaving an awkward pause in the conversation. "I can't take you out tomorrow. But if you go to the arts center, you can get the tickets. They're under Evans-"

"The arts center?!" Artie exclaimed, gears turning, "You got tickets to the Star Trek exhibition?"

"Yes!" Sam said, and Artie could hear some of the pep return to his voice. "You've got two tickets, so you can invite someone else along. Make sure someone gets pictures of you with one of the original phasers, okay? Because they look really cool, and they're actually letting people hold them."

Artie drooped a little. He had forgotten that Sam wasn't going to get to come with him. "Okay," Artie said. "I'll send you all the pictures."


	3. Doctor Abrams, I Presume

To say Sam was bummed would be an understatement. He had been looking forward to his second date with Artie for so long. Sam had purchased the tickets as soon as he saw the listing for the event, figuring that even if Artie didn't want to go out and date him, they'd still be friends. One of the nice things about soulmates was that 'romantic' relationships weren't _that _romantic so people never took rejection that hard. Relationships were like a low stakes game, if even that.

But somehow he had managed to come down with a flu that had left him heaving his guts out. At least he had nothing left in his stomach, so he could just lay on his living room floor covered in blankets, dry heaving every once in a while. Miserable, but at least he wasn't making a mess anymore. He was pretty sure that he had left a mess in the bathroom, but he figured he could leave it until he was feeling better. It wasn't as if he was going to have visitors anytime soon.

At least Artie had promised to take pictures for him, so he could look forward to seeing those on Facebook, or on their next date. He couldn't wait to see the look on Artie's face as he took in all the fantastic Star Trek memorabilia, even if he wasn't going to get to see it in person. And someone else was probably going to get to see his excitement firsthand with _his _ticket.

But of course, he wasn't jealous. It didn't make any sense to get jealous over a relationship that wasn't even really a relationship, just a façade until the real thing came along.

He was saved from his uncomfortable self pity by a knock on the door. Figuring it was some kind of door to door salesman, Sam ignored it. The knocking only got more insistent, however. Clearly his visitor wasn't going to leave on his own.

Reluctantly, he got up to get the door. When he opened it, he was shocked to see Artie sitting there, both smiling and concerned looking.

"You are looking a little worse for wear," Artie said, rolling into his apartment, his lap covered in bags. "It's a good thing I've brought you some pick me ups."

"Artie?" Sam said, pretty sure he had reached some stage of the flu involving hallucinations. It was Saturday; Artie was supposed to be busy with the Star Trek event.

"Yeah?" Artie said, doing something with his laptop and Sam's television.

"What are you doing here?" Sam asked. He closed the door and weakly made his way back to his blanket nest.

"You couldn't come to the Star Trek, so the Star Trek has come to you," Artie said, still typing away. "I resold the tickets, managed to get a decent amount of cash for them, too. I bought a nice HDMI cable with the money- the rest is in that bag over there- and picked up some saltines and ginger ale while I was at the store. And once I get this hooked up, we can watch all your favorite Star Trek episodes on your TV, in high definition, too."

Sam didn't know what to say. This was so high up there on his list of nice things people had done for him. It was too nice, really. "You really shouldn't have," he finally said.

Artie climbed out of his chair and scooted over to where Sam was lying, laptop in hand. He set the laptop down and clamored over Sam. "It wouldn't be much of a second date if I was with someone else," Artie said softly in his ear. "And you were here all alone. It sounds like a pretty terrible date to me."

Sam smiled as Artie wrapped his arm around him and pulled him close. Artie was smaller than he was, but damn, the man was muscular. He pulled a blanket over the both of them. "I guess you're right."

"Mhm," Artie said, "and just so you know, if you need me to get up or to get anything, just tell me, okay?"

"Maybe a couple saltine crackers?" Sam said hopefully. He hadn't dry heaved in a while, so maybe that part of the flu was done and over with.

"Sure thing!" Artie said, reaching over to his bag and rummaging through. He opened the package and handed a few crackers to Sam. Then, he put on an episode of Star Trek and went back to cuddling with Sam.

Sam started nibbling on the crackers, trying to keep from eating too fast, even though he was so hungry. He did his best to ignore how much he was enjoying Artie's breath tickling the back of his neck and the way that Artie was rubbing his thumb on his stomach. He could lay like this for a long, long time and be perfectly content. Another thing he desperately needed to ignore.

A couple episodes in, Sam had finished all his crackers. He was pretty proud of himself, when he felt that familiar surge of nausea. Resignedly, he got up to drag himself to the bathroom. He forgot to take into account how tired and weak he was, so he stumbled a little. That upset his weak stomach a little more than he had expected, and he ended up heaving on his hands and knees in the middle of the living room. And there went the crackers, all over the floor.

"Sam!" Artie called out, crawling over to him. He rubbed Sam's back while he threw up. When Sam was done, Artie eased him down to the ground. "Are you alright?"

"Just sick," Sam said, feeling embarrassed that he had almost thrown up on Artie. "Sorry."

"It's okay, Sam," Artie said, rubbing his back for a few seconds before crawling over to his chair (giving the pile of vomit a wide berth). He rolled into the kitchen. "Where do you keep your cleaning crap?"

"Under the sink, why?" Sam asked, wiping his mouth. He went back to his nest, pushing the crackers away. They had betrayed him.

Artie returned a few seconds later. "So I can clean it up, of course," Artie said. He handed Sam a glass of water. "And sip on this."

Sam took the glass automatically and sipped it as ordered. "You don't have to do that, Artie," he said, "I can do it later."

"Just relax," Artie said. "It'll start to smell and stain."

"Then let me-"

"Sam, no," Artie said in his director voice. Whoops, Sam could not ignore that tone of voice. "Just let me take care of it. Lay back down; I'll be over in a second." True to his word, Artie cleaned up the mess and then returned to sit next to Sam. "You need to keep sipping on the water," Artie was speaking in a much more relaxed tone now, "or else you're going to get dehydrated. I do not want to have to take you to the hospital."

"That would probably be a pretty terrible date," Sam said, smiling and sipping on the water as instructed.

"Yes," Artie agreed. "I'm down with this kind of date, in a pinch, but we really should do our best to avoid significant medical emergencies." He wrapped his arm around Sam and rested his head on his shoulder. "You're not going to have one, though. I'll make sure of it."

"So you're Doctor Abrams, then?" Sam teased.

"Mhm," Artie said, smiling up at him. "So keep drinking. Doctor's orders."

"Yes, sir," Sam said, sipping on his drink a little more. "You've got an excellent bedside manner- a real McCoy. I'm feeling better already."

"Good," Artie said, looking at him a little strangely.

"Are you okay?" Sam asked, concerned.

"Yeah…" Artie said softly, leaning forward to press his lips against Sam's.

The thing was, you weren't really supposed to kiss people before you met your soulmate, Sam knew. At least, not like this. Maybe people kissed hard and fast in the middle of having sex, but they didn't do it closely and intimately, when their breath was probably gross and vomity. Artie's hands shouldn't be resting at his neck, encouraging Sam closer, and Sam shouldn't be obeying, shouldn't be sliding his hand into Artie's hair, shouldn't want this kiss to go on forever, even though his head was spinning.

Although, since his head was spinning, he had to pull away, breathing hard. He held onto Artie's shoulders to try to steady himself, since he felt like he was about to pass out.

"Oh my god," Artie said, steadying him, "I'm so sorry; I didn't mean to do anything wrong."

"No," Sam said, "You didn't. I just haven't eaten very much lately, and my head just started spinning. Plus, like, lack of oxygen is bad for staying upright."

"So, the kiss was okay?" Artie asked.

"Oh yeah," Sam said enthusiastically, "Way more than okay. It was fantastic. You're an excellent kisser."

"Really?" Artie sounded surprised, "I've, uh, never done that before. Well, obviously."

"Really," Sam confirmed.

"So maybe we can do it again sometime?" Artie asked hesitantly.

Sam paused. The answer should be no. The answer should be 'go away Artie,' should be 'there's something wrong here.' Because these pre-relationships weren't supposed to be complicated. Hell, there really shouldn't be that many questions to ask. It was all supposed to be casual, but instead his stomach was churning (in a pleasant way, not in the sickening way it had been) and all he wanted to do was pull Artie close. So he should definitely say no.

"Yeah," Sam said, nodding. "We can do it again. Although maybe you should wait until I'm not sick, so you don't end up throwing up, too."

"When you're better, then," Artie agreed. "For now, more water."


	4. The Unlucky of Us

Artie was relieved when Sam started being able to eat properly again. He had been starting to get worried that he was going to have to get the hospital involved, which would be very unpleasant. But nope, Sam was well again, and Artie really wanted to celebrate, but…

[srry I've got to study for finals.]

He sent the text with a sigh. It was true, obviously. He did have plenty of work to do before he could relax, but that was only part of the reason he had been avoiding Sam since he had been feeling better.

Something about Sam had been unsettling him. It left his head spinning and his stomach acting up in a way that made him worry that he had come down with the flu after all. But he hadn't thrown up, and these feelings were at their worst when he was near Sam. He couldn't get out of being near Sam, though, since it wasn't like he could leave his sick friend alone. It wasn't that he wanted to cut him out of his life, just that he wanted a little space to figure out what the hell was wrong with him.

His phone buzzed. [no probs :) just wanted to thank u for taking care of me. ur gonna kik but]

Artie smiled at his phone despite himself, but then he frowned when the unfamiliar feelings in his stomach started up again. Whatever it was needed to stop, because he had finals to conquer, and these distractions were not helping anything.

[thanks ^_^]

Sam's confidence in him was appreciated, though, no matter what else he was feeling. He set his phone aside, ignoring it as it buzzed once more. He had to turn back to studying and ignore the itch he had to check to see if it was Sam again.

After a few minutes, he couldn't resist any longer, and his hand darted out to snag his phone and check it.

[np. lemme kno when ur done]

He breathed deeply. That might not be for a week. He had a lot to accomplish and not a lot of time to accomplish it in.

[It might be awhile]

The reply came fast.

[ill wait]

Artie wanted to chuck his phone at the wall or something. He settled for turning it off altogether. He was never going to get any studying done if he kept thinking about Sam. His stupid best friend Sam, with his stupid conscientiousness, his stupid puppy dog eyes, his stupid slight southern accent that he brought out every once in a while, and, of course, his stupid kissable lips. Artie still couldn't believe he had lent over to kiss him like that. He couldn't believe that he wanted more. That he had asked for more, as if kissing someone else's soulmate once wasn't bad enough.

Sex was one thing; most people could separate sex and intimacy. But to kiss somebody slowly and tenderly for whatever unidentifiable feeling it was that drove him… that was different. That was wrong. It wasn't his place to be kissing Sam- or anyone he knew- like that. And yet, all he really wanted to be doing was watching some stupid movie and kissing Sam. What the hell.

Glancing at the clock on the wall, he realized it was almost three am. Maybe it was lack of sleep affecting his judgment. That had to be it. So he sighed, took his clothes off and went to bed. Or, at least, he tried to.

Artie normally ended up crashing whenever he went to bed, especially after a late night study session but he couldn't quite get to sleep. He was too busy tossing and turning, trying to find a comfortable position. He tried doing everything he could think of- more blankets, fewer blankets, turn the temperature up, crank it back down, sleep in different positions. But none of it worked because he was thinking about Sam and what this all meant.

Maybe it was a fluke. Maybe the kiss was just a result of him coming down with something. Or Sam somehow infecting him with the flu. Flu made people crazy, right? Hopefully. Or, and Artie swallowed hard as he had the thought, maybe the people who had speculated about him were right.

Maybe he was broken. Not just his back, which honestly, Artie was fine with, but maybe something in there was what alerted you to your soulmate, made your color vision click in. So who was to say that Sam wasn't his soulmate after all? Maybe Artie had just fucked it up, so they'd never get to see colors. He knew, deep down, that that wasn't a possibility, but he wanted so hard to be true, so he didn't have to deal with his dumbass feelings anymore. He could just let them exist if he properly belonged with Sam. It was enough to let him drift off to a fitful sleep.

Suddenly, he was woken up by someone crawling under the covers with him. He would have jumped, but somehow he knew he was Sam, which meant it was okay. Sure enough, when he turned around, he recognized Sam's outline. Artie smiled, still sleepy, and pulled him close and started kissing Sam just like he had before. This time there was no sickness, no almost passing out, and Sam kissed him back with equal passion. Artie enjoyed how soft and full Sam's lips were, and they kept kissing leisurely until suddenly, Sam turned them so Sam was straddling him.

Wait, what was happening? This didn't seem like Sam at all; Sam would ask first before kissing him deeper and running his hands down his body, taking advantage of the fact that Artie usually slept naked. His intent was clear, and Artie didn't know if he was ready.

But, hold up again, since when wasn't he ready? He in particular was pretty open for the casual sex, and Sam had been his friend forever, so really, it was more confusing that he hadn't had sex with Sam yet, not that Sam was trying to get into his pants (or lack thereof) right now. Why was he even hesitant about this? Sam was hot, he was kind, he was trustworthy, and hell, he had more going for him than a lot of the other people Artie had ended up having sex with. There'd be nothing special about it, whenever it happened.

With a gasp, Artie sat up in bed, completely alone. He grasped around, but Sam wasn't there. No body heat from where he should have been either. It had just been some stupid dream. He wanted to scream into his pillow. This was supposed to have been easy, not complicated. Figuring he wasn't going to get much more sleep after that dream, he decided to get up and study for a few more hours before class.

Out of habit, he turned on his phone and checked for what he might have missed. There were a few messages from his classmates, also doing some late night studying, but what caught his eye were the seven messages from Sam.

[how does NASA organize their company parties?]

[they planet. :O what did jay-z call his girlfriend before they got married?]

[Feyonce :D y cant a bike stand on its own?]

And it went on like that for three more messages. Artie was trying and failing to contain his laughter.

[b/c he neverlands. 8) i hope this cheers u up a little bit after all ur studying! ur like the smartest guy i kno but still good luck, artie]

Artie took a big breath and decided to hell with it. He just wanted to get on with his work, and stop denying himself just because he had a few weird feelings every once in a while. Sam was too good a friend to roll away from, and he knew that Sam wanted him in his life, too. So being weird and emotional wouldn't help either of them.

He buckled down and decided to do some editing on one of his final projects. That was preferable to hitting the books for a few hours, and it'd help clear his mind, now that his mind was made up.


End file.
